We’ve had about a foot and a half of snow in the last few days, and no one was very excited about it… not the people, not the deer, not the ducks. In Durango, the official tally is approaching 100 inches of snow, and we’ve had more in the county.
In celebration of the additional snowpack, Bob dug a path to the fire pit. It’s the first time in months that we’ve been in the garden, and we sat and watched the fire from its bold start to quiet embers.
As the fire burned down, the walls of the pit revealed, layer upon layer, the history of our winter storms,
and the fire-lit snow looked molten.
(The next morning, that incandescent orange could have been a dream.)
P.S. Here’s a map of the magpie’s range:
Purgatory opened new terrain this year that is truly breathtaking. It comes with it’s own set of suggestions.
Bob doesn’t like it. His initial stance was that I not do it alone; we agreed instead that he knows where to look if I don’t come back from skiing (already covered by Suggestion #2, Ski with a friend and Suggestion #4, If you are injured in this area, rescue times might be greatly increased.)
It’s addictive. The trick is not to look at the trees, but at the spaces between them.
In real life, you can choose a path by avoiding obstacles. But in steep snow and trees you have to let the opportunities determine your path, not the obstacles. You have to rely on your choices, not your fears.
You see the space when you’re skiing, and the trees when you stop…
at 10,000 feet, where the boughs are decked with mermaid hair,
too beautiful to be believed.
Yesterday was Spring, but today we have lots of Winter.
Been there. Done that.
Where do the butterflies go when it snows?
These regular blankets of snow make for a long Spring and it’s nice to have the moisture,
but I think it’s fair to say that some of us enjoy the snow a whole lot more
than others.
A hard wind blew so much red earth into the air that you couldn’t see across the valley. Cars drove with their headlights on at noon,
and the sun glowed dimly behind a veil of earth.
By the next morning, everything was scrubbed clean.
I had my last day of skiing today, and it was a fine day.
I ski with Joanne nearly every Thursday. We do seven runs, never less and rarely more. Joanne was an exercise professor for 25 years, and took early retirement. She loves to exercise. She has to make herself not workout. (Me, I never had that problem.) For nearly five years we’ve done a weekly five-mile loop in the summer, or 7 runs downhill in the winter; I like moguls, she skis telemark with the loose heel.
Ski season stops for me as soon as the snow gets sticky spots in it… which was this week (Sam will ski for another 3 weeks, but I had a high speed crash and 28 stitches in my face two years ago this week, so I’m wary of spring conditions). It takes a lot of work to get to a mountaintop in the summer, so Goodbye to the easy eagle’s view for another year.
These are giant clumps of snow falling from the sky,
These are little snowflakes,
and here the snow all fell.
A snow storm rolled in and blanketed the mountains, frosting the valley below.
There’s a drizzle today that’s probably snow in the high country.
Can you see the rain? The stream just lost its ice, and the snow is starting to recede.
Here are two deer paths converging in the back field (the bare spot to the left is our leach field). As soon as the snow leaves the high country, the deer will be gone. Until then, the gardens are under siege.
Deer don’t usually eat iris, but here they can’t seem to decide between trampling the plants or shearing them off at the base (let’s try both). (It’s been fun, but I’ll be glad when they’re gone).
I’ve skied since I was three and lived near a ski mountain for most of my adult life. We live about 15 minutes from Purgatory (now Durango Mountain Resort), and I have a pass that allows me to zip up, take some runs, and get back before you know it. I’ve never taken my camera skiing before, but I did today. Here’s the drill: the steep part of this mountain is the backside, and it takes two lifts to get there.
First we go up the six-pack.
Here’s the view at the top, and it’s a leisurely ski over to the quad.
All of the cliffs on the mountain are measured, and people (i.e. the teenaged boys (Sam)) know exactly how high they are. The problem is not the jump but the landing–steep landings are better. A kid died at the base of this cliff last year because there was so much snow that he suffocated in the flat landing… as the quad rolled on.
This is the view on the way to the backside–I’m skiing to the valley bottom,
where the terrain is getting steeper
and taking this lift with no guard or footrest (hate it) to the very top.
It’s like heaven up here,
at 10,822 feet. Breathe deep. Inspire.
This is the break after the second snowfall:
.
There are three more storms expected in the next 4 days, and there will be a lot of extra work clearing snow. Some people in our household are really upset about the prospect (I’m hoping a Thai curry will calm him down.)
This doe found a fat pine frond on the snow
and gobbled it
all up.
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